Danger Signals

by Kathleen Creighton

  "Now, Gran, you know that's not Tommy. Tommy died, remember? A long time ago." Tierney put an arm around her grandmother's waist and gently but firmly guided her to a chair.

  Jeannette peered up at her in bewilderment as she sank slowiy into the chair, that heart-tugging smile only a memory. "Izzy?"

  "No, darling, it's Tee. And this nice man is Wade Callahan-you met him, remember?" She threw Wade a look and winked, and his breathing stumbled.

  She was wearing jeans and a yellow T-shirt with a chain of daisies embroidered along the scooped neckline. Her cheeks were flushed and her damp hair had been caught up in a ponytail, the shorter curls already escaping. For the first time in a long while he thought of cheerleaders.

  If he hadn't known better, based on some nagging bodily discomforts, he'd have been tempted to suspect the whole night had been some sort of wild erotic fantasy. A wet dream. On steroids.

  Lord help him, at least that thought he did remember to block.

  Tierney said. '"You made coffee? Thank you." Her smile was like an accolade. He felt as if he'd just been knighted by the queen. "Are you hungry?"

  "Like a wolf," he growled, belatedly hoping she'd miss-or at least ignore-the double meaning.

  He sat, sipping but not tasting his coffee, and watched her while she fixed Jeannette instant oatmeal with brown sugar and butter, then got out a bowl and a box of Cheerios for herself. She offered to make him something-eggs. French toast, maybe?-but he managed to mumble something to the effect that the Cheerios would be fine. It had been a long time since he'd eaten Cheerios for breakfast.

  It was while he was shoveling in spoonfuls of milk and a kids' cereal, listening to an old lady crooning contentedly to her own breakfast, and smiling across the table at the woman with whom he'd just enjoyed the most passionate night of his life, that it came to Wade: he was happy. At that moment, happier than he could remember being in a very long time. Maybe his whole life.

  About the time Wade was chasing down the last floating Cheerio, Jeannette got up from the table and wandered off, having forgotten, he assumed, about the remaining half of her breakfast. Resisting the temptation to pick up his bowl and drink the rest of the milk, the way he and Matt used to do when they were kids, he carried the bowl to the sink and exchanged it for the coffeepot. He refilled his own cup and topped off Tierney's, then returned to his chair, picked up his coffee and looked across the table at her.

  She gazed back at him, which he found both unsettling and refreshing. Most women, he thought, probably wouldn't know what to do with their eyes the morning after a night like that. Not that he had anything to compare this particular morning after with, the night in question being pretty much unparalleled in his experience.

  He let out a breath in a long sigh. "Miss Tee, what are we going to do about this?"

  She didn't seem to be able to answer, although he saw her throat work and ripple a few times. But she refused to look away, didn't try to avoid his eyes, and for some reason the fact that she wouldn't let herself off the hook touched him.

  "Maybe," he said in a gentler tone, "what I should be asking is…what do you want to do about this?"

  Now she did look away, a guilty ducking of her head and lowering of her lashes to veil her eyes, and a spectacularly unsuccessful attempt to hide a smile behind a quickly raised coffee cup.

  He laughed. "Oh.,yeah. Me, too."

  After a brief but humid silence, Tierney gave her head a determined shake and looked up at him. "I'm sorry, that wasn't fair to you. Wade. I do know what you're asking. We have a professional relationship to consider."

  He nodded, watching her closely. "We do. But…something as good as this-and I don't know about you, but for me, that was…as good as it gets. I mean, beyond good. It was-"

  She was laughing now, cheeks pink and eyes teary. "Yeah, me, too."

  After another of those respectful-awed-silences. Wade shifted in his chair. Shifted gears, serious again. "I guess what I'm asking, is…I think last night happened because you were vulnerable, and maybe I took advantage of that-"

  "You didn't."

  "Mmm…" The pass, the opportunity to excuse his behavior, was tempting. He shrugged it off, leaned forward, his voice low and tense. "Maybe. But either way, just in case you were thinking that was a one-time thing. I'd hate to think it has to end here just because maybe it shouldn't have happened in the first place. Something this good… damn it, we're good together. Miss Tee. I don't know why, but we are. We can't ignore that."

  "No," she whispered.

  He saw something in her eyes that made his chest clench. "But?"

  She shook her head, worked her throat and looked bravely straight into his eyes again. "But…you have The Job, and I have The Gift. Neither of those things makes for a very optimistic outlook for…whatever this is or might become between us."

  "Yeah," he agreed, narrowing his eyes and setting his jaw, determined to be as brave as she was, "I'll grant you, cops do tend to be lousy at relationships."

  "And," she went on. "how would you like having to always guard your emotions, twenty-four-seven?"

  He smiled crookedly. "Being a cop, I've always pretty much done that anyway."

  She acknowledged that with a smile that flickered like a faulty lamp. "Then there's Jeannette. She's only going to get worse, Wade. Harder to deal with. I'll need to keep a constant watch-"

  He had no idea what he'd have replied to that. His cell phone, which he'd remembered to put back in its holster when he'd donned his pants, chose that moment to vibrate, startling them both. He unhooked it, glanced at the Caller ID, then punched it on. "Yeah-Callahan."

  Tierney watched his face harden as he listened, but she couldn't read him. He was blocking her completely now, and she felt sorry, though not so sure she should be.

  It was a short conversation, and on Wade's part, consisted mostly of monosyllables. Then, "On my way," he said, and disconnected. He let out a breath and looked at her.

  "Another murder?" she asked softly.

  "No. Thank you, God. But we've got a suspect." He pushed back from the table and tilted his head in the general direction of the bathroom. "Mind if I-"

  "Of course not. Do you want to shower?"

  He was on his feet, now, tucking his phone back in its holster. "I need to go home and get clean clothes, so I'll shower there." He paused to throw her a quick, frowning glance-he was all cop now. "Is there someone you can get to stay with your grandmother?"

  She opened her mouth to answer, but he rushed on.

  "We've got a warrant to search the suspect's house- last known address, anyway-nobody seems to be there at the moment." He was moving away from her with quick, purposeful strides. She followed him into the living room and stood with her arms wrapped across her waist while he picked up his shirt and shrugged it on. "It'd be helpful if you could be there. Absent any concrete evidence, you might be able to tell if we've got the right guy, at least."

  The image of a young police officer's mutilated body flashed across her mind, and with it, like a series of blows inside her head, the terrible fear and pain that had been her final moments. She opened her mouth, but no sound came.

  Sympathy, regret, anguish and concern were all there in the way he looked at her. He could keep her from "hearing" his emotions, it seemed, but had forgotten to veil his eyes.

  Hold me, Wade. Kiss me and take this fear and pain away.

  I know what happened should be a one-time thing. But I don't want to lose what we had last night, either!

  Please…just for a moment, hold me. Let me remember…

  She gathered the feelings and hurled them at him with all her might, like spears. But of course he hadn't The Gift. He couldn't know.

  She drew a shuddering breath. 'The girl who helps out in the gallery watches Gran sometimes. Just give me a minute to call her."

  Chapter 9

  Tierney sat enveloped in silence as Wade drove his unmarked police sedan through Portland's lazy Saturday-morning tr
affic. The silence was deep and profound, a silence of feelings as well as words.

  She knew how much effort it cost him to break it when he finally threw her a glance and muttered, "I'm sorry about this. I really am."

  "I know." She said it without thinking, and felt stung when he gave back a bark of sardonic laughter.

  "Yeah. I guess you do, don't you."

  "Not because of…that. I just…know," she said, studying his rigid profile. "You've gotten very good at blocking me, actually."

  He didn't reply. A few minutes later he made several turns, and she recognized the streets, remembered the last time she'd been here. She'd been here with Wade, and then, as now, sitting beside him in his car in a painful silence that felt like the aftermath of a lover's quarrel.

  Only then, unlike now, it had been his thoughts-a man's sex thoughts, involuntary, lustful and bawdy-coming through loud and clear that made the silence so awkward. That was then…before he'd gotten so good at blocking.

  He looked over at her as if he'd heard her thoughts. "What?" he demanded to know as she turned her head quickly to hide them.

  She shrugged and replied the only way she could. "Nothing."

  Nothing…

  There she goes again with that lie. His lips twitched, but he decided to let it go, this time. Because he'd just remembered the last time he'd driven her home with him, and why.

  He cleared his throat and in what he hoped was a casual way, said, "Heard anything from my stalker lately?"

  She looked at him and then away again. "The Watcher?" she pointedly said, correcting him.

  She felt irritable, argumentative. And she wasn't those things, not normally. Feeling vaguely ashamed but no less angry- Angry? Is that what I am? Then…why? And at who?-she said in a tight voice, "No-I haven't."

  She felt his quick, questioning glance. Then a shrug. "Guess he found out what he wanted to know and moved on."

  But she was remembering that first vivid impression from The Watcher, that surge of pure joy. I found you!

  She'd told Wade about that, but he'd obviously forgotten. Or, she told herself, still teetering on the brink of that inexplicable anger-Yes, Wade, I'm angry with you, and I'm not sure why!-he simply insisted on clinging to his own interpretation and was completely ignoring hers.

  It seemed so obvious to her. the reason The Watcher- she was sure he was the man they'd met in the Rose Garden, the man with the camera, journalist Cory Pearson-no longer felt the need to shadow Wade. Quite simply, he'd "found" him. She was certain he'd come to the Rose Garden that day intending to speak to him, to make himself-and perhaps his reasons for tracking Wade down-known. And for some reason, he hadn't. Why? She hadn't picked up any feelings of fear or anxiety from him when he'd learned Wade was a cop. In fact, she felt sure he'd already known. And yet he'd lost his nerve about coming clean. Again-why?

  A thought came to her. A notion so incredible, a possibility so emotionally overwhelming, she couldn't keep it inside. She tried her best but must have jerked, winced, made some small sound.

  Naturally, Wade's immediate response was a demanding, "What?"

  And of course she replied, "Nothing." This wasn't something she could just spring on him out of the blue. And it was just a thought…

  "Don't lie to me." His voice was harsh with the pain he'd been keeping from her. "Don't shut me out."

  When his own words registered with him a moment later, he laughed without feeling the slightest bit amused. "Man, I do hope you got the irony in that."

  He paused again, having deduced from her silence that she was hurt, maybe even angry. "Look," he began, then went on in a softer voice, "I've done things with you, felt things… I've never done or felt with any woman before. So…don't shut me out, Miss Tee. Please."

  She nodded, made a small throat-sound, then said evenly, "I won't if you won't."

  He tightened his jaw. clamped down on his temper. "Damn it, that's not fair."

  She exhaled and said tiredly. "No, I guess it isn't."

  He felt those candid blue eyes of hers on him but didn't return the look. After a moment she faced forward again, and when she spoke her voice sounded blurred…indistinct. He hoped to God she wasn't crying.

  "We didn't get a chance to really talk about this, did we? About what we're going to do."

  He pulled into the Hofmeyer's driveway and shifted into Park. He wanted to talk about this, but not now, damn it. He waited a moment, fortifying himself, then turned to her. "How about this? We take it one day…one hour at a time. See what happens."

  There was a long pause before she nodded and murmured. "Okay."

  For some reason her cooperation didn't make him feel any better. In fact, it almost made him feel worse. And he had no idea why.

  It looked to him like gender communications issues didn't get easier just because one of the people involved happened to be psychic.

  "I need to shower and shave, put on some clean clothes," he ventured finally. "Shouldn't take long. Do you want to come up and wait? You can nuke some day-old coffee, if you like."

  She shook her head. Muttered, "Thanks. I'll just wait here."

  Hell. Head movements and words of one syllable seemed to be about it for her right now. He'd gotten more out of suspects in interrogation.

  He got out of the car and was about to slam the door when he thought better of it, ducked down to say, "Be right back," then closed it carefully.

  Complications, he thought as he stormed up the driveway. I used to be better at avoiding them. What the hell happened?

  Tierney watched Wade go through the gate between the house and garage, then turn the corner and disappear around the back. It was rapidly becoming too warm in the car, so she opened her door to let some cooler air in. She put her head back against the head rest and closed her eyes, feeling bruised in mind and spirit, buffeted by storms of emotion- her own, for a change. How had she let this happen?

  She knew better, too. People like her weren't cut out for entanglements like this. The emotional strain was simply too much. Especially now. On top of everything she had to deal with.

  Lonely!

  The emotional cannonball seemed to come out of nowhere. And no one. Tierney jerked upright and looked around, but there wasn't a soul in sight, not on the street, or in any of the yards. In fact, the only living creature abroad in the neighborhood appeared to be a very fat, very bored-looking basset hound sitting in the middle of the flagstone path that led to the gate through which Wade had just passed.

  Lonely!

  "No," Tierney whispered, staring at the animal, "don't tell me."

  The basset gazed at her with a superior expression of the type usually associated with British butlers.

  She got out of the car and squatted down so as to be more on a level with the creature. "Okay, dog," she muttered. "What'sa matter, hmm? Are you the one who's lonely?"

  Lonely…curious… hopeful…

  The hound heaved his massive hind end off the pavers and waddled toward her without haste, nose to the ground, ears dragging. Tierney met him halfway, lowered herself into a half crouch and held out her hand for the animal to sniff. She wasn't terribly experienced with dogs, but it seemed to her this was what people did when meeting a strange one.

  This dog, however, displayed no interest whatsoever in her offering. He turned his head and gazed dolefully down the street.

  Since he didn't appear to possess the energy required to actually bite anyone. Tierney decided to take the risk of patting him on the head.

  Love! Adoration!

  Amazing, Tierney thought, collapsing onto her knees beside the dog and silently laughing. Who would have guessed?

  Adoration! Devotion!

  Tears stung her eyes. The dog continued to regard her with what seemed to be utter disdain as she fondled his long silky ears and murmured dopey endearments.

  "Unbelievable," Wade said.

  Tierney looked up and her heart performed an impossible maneuver.

  He wa
s freshly shaven and showered, dressed in tan slacks and a light blue shirt open, as always, at the neck. A navy-blue blazer was slung over one shoulder, hanging from a crooked finger. His eyes were so vivid a blue it made her own eyes smart to look into them.

  "This is the sweetest dog." she said, hiding her shakiness with laughter. "Is he yours?"

  "Sweet. You're kidding, right?" He snorted. "The mutt smells like a rancid landfill. On a hot day."

  "Oh, he does not." She looked down at the dog. who had turned his head to stare haughtily at Wade over one shoulder. "What's his name?"

  "Bruno. And if he hasn't gassed you out yet, give him a minute. He prefers sneak attacks. He's my landlords' dog, and the bane of my existence. I would have caught me a stalker the other night if it hadn't been for this lazy-"

  "He's got a nervous stomach." Tierney informed him as she got to her feet, brushing off her jeans. She gave Wade an accusing look. "You make him nervous, actually. He knows you don't like him."

  "Unbelievable," he breathed, gazing at her in wonderment. "I leave you alone for ten minutes and you become a dog whisperer."

  He'd done some whispering with himself during those ten minutes, a good part of which had been spent staring at his own countenance in the mirror. What he'd seen there hadn't made him happy. He was used to thinking of himself as one of the good guys, and didn't much care for the complete and total jackass looking back at him.

  The first thing he'd reminded himself was that, whatever was going on with Tierney. it wasn't in any way. shape or form her fault. As far as the job and the case went, she was doing what she'd been called on to do. Doing it even though it was causing her a considerable amount of pain and suffering, and even though she had enough on her plate already just trying to look after a grandmother with Alzheimer's. And as for what happened between them last night…well, no matter what she said, he knew that was on him.

  The second thing? Completely aside from what had happened between them last night, she was first and foremost his partner. She should be able to trust him to look out for her. And she definitely deserved better than she'd gotten from him so far.